Guiding Light (GxGxG)

2. Annoying demon

 TW// Sexual content/violence

The sight of Rhea sent a shock through me, making my heart race as if it had leapt from my chest. Questions rushed through my mind, each more frantic than the last. Was this a dream? A hallucination, perhaps, fueled by guilt and remorse? Or was this another layer of the mystery she represented, her claim of being more than she seemed?

The smirk on her face suggested she was loving the chaos her presence was causing. It was a silent acknowledgement of the upper hand she now held, the upper hand she had held since the moment we met. The air between us was tense, charged with a mix of fear, confusion, and anticipation. What did her return mean? And more importantly, what did she want from me now?

I turned to flip my lamp back on, hoping that when I faced her again, she wouldn't be there and this would be just a figment of my imagination. But hope was fleeting, for there she was. Alive.

"What... How?" I couldn't hide the surprise in my voice.

"I'm immortal, just as you are," Rhea told me casually.

"You're like me?" I asked genuinely.

"Well, no. Not like you. I'm not a Princess." She sat up and crossed her legs, staring down at me. Then, before I could anticipate her next movement, she ran her hand through my hair. Her touch was light, yet so invasive, and although it was born of sheer curiosity, it left me feeling exposed in a way that combat never had. "Wow!" she cooed in awe. "It's so soft!"

I pushed her hand away, feeling oddly vulnerable at her actions. "It's called hair, and you have some yourself. Play with that and don't fucking touch mine," I warned.

She reached up and absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair, as if she had just noticed it was there. Her fascination was almost childlike, which was a stark contrast to the formidable presence she had displayed moments before. I shook my head in pity and asked, "If you're not human and you're not like me, then what are you?"

The question was like a direct challenge to the mystery that Rhea had wrapped herself in. It was a demand for clarity, for an explanation that would make sense of the surreal situation unfolding in my bedroom. But she kept playing with her hair as if I hadn't said anything. I rolled my eyes in annoyance, slapping her hand away from her head. "It's just hair, and it's on your damn head. Trust me, it's not going anywhere."

She looked at me with a warning glare. "I'm a demon, and so are you. The difference between you and me is our bloodlines. You're royalty, and I'm—"

"A peasant?"

"I might as well have been, for all the bullshit I have to go through putting up with you," she said. She finally paused, her hand stilling in her hair, and she looked at me with an expression that hinted at the depth of the story she was about to unfold. The smirk that had played on her lips disappeared and her appearance softened into something more reflective and serious.

"I am what you might call a guardian," she began, her voice taking on a tone that suggested the weight of the centuries she claimed to have lived. "Not human, certainly, but not so different in purpose. My existence is tied to yours in ways that are ancient and complex, bound by a covenant that predates the modern world."

Her explanation, while cryptic, hinted at a world that existed parallel to the one I knew, a realm where beings like Rhea operated under rules and obligations that were unfathomable to the human mind. The notion of a guardian, an immortal protector, was something out of myths and legends, yet here she was, embodying that very role.